


Singing My Life With His Words

by dahlstrom



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahlstrom/pseuds/dahlstrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anderberry siblings!AU.  Blaine is Rachel’s half-brother, younger by one year.  Kurt never went to Dalton, but Blaine did transfer to McKinley at the start of his junior year, which is when they met.  They never got together in high school.  Begins where 5x14 picks up, with Blaine and Sam moving to NYC to join Kurt and the girls.  No Pamela Lansbury, no <i>Funny Girl.</i> Brief mentions of Kurt/Adam, but he never actually appears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singing My Life With His Words

“Do you ever actually _work_ in this bitch?”

Kurt glanced up from the menus he was wiping to see Santana, who was waltzing in ten minutes late for her shift. “Look around,” he replied, gesturing to the mostly-empty diner with the rag in his hand. “I’ve got one table and they’re fine. You’re late, by the way.”

“I’m just saying, every time I see you here, you’re cleaning those damn menus.” She started to lean on the counter next to where he sat, but then seemed to think better of it and dug her sharp elbows into his thighs instead, resting her chin in her hands and fluttering her lashes up at him. “Or are you watching the door and waiting for Doctor Who?”

Wincing, Kurt slid to the left away from her. “Adam works until five on Tuesdays, but yeah, he’ll probably stop by later. I’m actually watching for Rachel, if you want to know.”

Santana narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t know she was on shift today.”

“She’s not,” Kurt said pointedly, staring at her. “She’s bringing guests?” When Santana continued to look blank, he sighed. “Her brother. Remember, he and Sam moved here over the weekend? Remember how she’s been talking about nothing else for weeks?”

“Oh,” Santana said vaguely, now coiling her hair into a lazy bun. “Yeah, I sort of recall that now, sure.”

Kurt was tempted to snap at her, but then noticed one of the customers at his single table looking his way and jumped down from the counter to see what they needed, all smiles and perfect (if forced) helpfulness. After he’d brought them more fries, Santana had disappeared into the back, and he returned to his menus. He frowned slightly when he remembered what she’d said, but he couldn’t help if it they were _constantly_ greasy and in need of cleaning, could he?

A few minutes later his phone chimed with a text message alert; he knew it was from Rachel before even looking at it. _We’re almost there! BTW Sam’s hair is atrociously long but DO NOT make fun of him._

Smiling, he tucked the phone back into his pocket, hoping no more tables came in before they arrived. Indeed, the next time the door opened, he looked up to see Rachel sailing through it with Sam and Blaine behind her, all three toting iced coffees. 

“Hel- _lo!_ ” Rachel called, beaming at him. Kurt hopped down from the counter and strolled toward them, keeping his eyes on the boys over her shoulder. “Kurt, you remember these two, I’m sure.”

What the-- of course he did, he’d just seen them a few months ago in Lima. He and Sam shared an eyeroll before shaking hands - Sam clapped him somewhat painfully on the shoulder, too. Kurt managed to smile through it and asked how their move had gone. “Good, man, good. We’re like ten blocks from you guys, so.” Sam grinned. “Hopefully we’ll all be hanging out a lot.” 

Inwardly, Kurt cringed a little, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Not wanting to dwell on it, he turned his attention to Blaine, Rachel’s half-brother. “Hi,” Kurt said to him, smiling a bit awkwardly. He didn’t know Blaine as well as he did Sam; Blaine had only been at McKinley for Kurt’s senior year, and between dealing with college applications and dating Chandler, Kurt had been rather preoccupied for most of that year. 

“Hi,” Blaine replied, gazing around the diner looking awed and maintaining that expression as he settled his eyes on Kurt. “This place is _amazing._ I can’t believe I’ll get to work here.”

Kurt stifled a snort. _Come on, cut the kid some slack._ He managed to cover it by clearing his throat and said, “Yeah, three of the wait staff quit last week, so it shouldn’t be a problem for the two of you to get in.” He addressed the last part of his sentence to both Blaine and Sam, since the way Blaine was looking at him was making him a bit uncomfortable. It might have passed for flirtatious had it not been so... well, _earnest._

Rachel took over then, leading her charges into the back to meet Gunther, the manager, and Kurt checked on his one table again. They were fine, so he gathered up his menus and slid into a booth to continue wiping them down, but more slowly now, lost in thought.

His history with Sam was a little complicated, and although he’d known Sam was coming to New York for several weeks, he hadn’t revisited it until now. They were friends, he supposed, but had never been exactly close. When Sam first started at McKinley, Kurt had had a crush on him, convinced that he was in the closet. When it turned out Sam was straight as an arrow (and had proceeded to work his way through half of the girls in glee club), he’d been a little disappointed, but brushed it aside, like he did with most everything else in those days. Their friendship became more cemented when Kurt helped him in secret when Sam’s father lost his job, and it survived the misdirected drama of the rest of their friends thinking they were romantically involved. After that... well, there hadn’t been much between them, but nothing at all bad. Sam was just _there,_ stoic, a solid buddy who would always step up if someone he cared about needed a friend. Kurt had always appreciated that. 

Blaine, on the other hand, hadn’t made much of an impression on Kurt in high school. They were acquaintances at best. He and Rachel shared a mother, and although they’d been raised in separate houses, they’d always been close. Kurt knew he’d gone to private school for most of his life, a tradition from his father’s side of the family, according to Rachel, but he’d transferred to McKinley as a junior. Rachel hadn’t hidden the fact that it was due to their glee club’s success on the competition circuit over Blaine’s former school’s, and Blaine hadn’t denied it either. He was a bit odd, kind of dorky, _a lot_ like his sister in many ways, and not all good ones. Kurt remembered many times he’d shared an exasperated look with Mercedes or Puck when Blaine stepped into the spotlight, over the heads of people who had more seniority. He supposed it wasn’t Blaine’s fault that the spotlight shone so naturally on him, though.

There was something else, too... something that had always made Kurt keep Blaine at arm’s length, consciously or not. At his old school, he had been out and proud, and had apparently escaped any sort of bullying. This continued when he came to McKinley, which Kurt envied. He’d never been sure if this was because the homophobia had run its course or because Blaine was one of those people who was immune to any sort of bad luck. One might think that the two of them would be naturally drawn to each other, but Kurt had been stubborn, always a little annoyed that he’d had to bear the brunt of the taunting while Blaine got off scot-free. 

Rachel had hinted more than once that she knew he and Blaine could be really good friends, or possibly more, and he’d had none of it. He was already bracing himself for her to start up again now that Blaine was here in New York.

Suddenly, Santana banged the kitchen door open and startled him out of his thoughts. “Good ol’ Trouty Mouth,” she said silkily, sliding into the booth across from Kurt and making a face at his menus. “You know, I’d almost forgotten I used to date him.”

“Oh, don’t even,” Kurt replied, smirking. He realized all at once why she’d been so nonchalant about their coming. “Back before you knew the error of your ways.”

“I think he was the reason I discovered that error, to be honest.”

“Aw, and here I’d been hoping for a reunion.”

She glared at him. “Just for that, I’m taking the next three tables. No, the next _four._ ” She snatched up his pile of cleaned menus and stalked toward the front of the diner to greet the two parties of people who had just come in, and Kurt knew better than to challenge her.

 

A week later, Kurt studied the new work schedule on the bulletin board in the kitchen while tying his apron around his waist. “Shit,” he mumbled, just as Blaine walked past him, carrying the buckets of Splenda and sugar packets to refill caddies. 

“What’s wrong?” Blaine asked, stopping beside him.

Kurt glanced at him and then quickly back to the schedule. “I’m on graveyard next Monday into Tuesday.” That was the death shift; since Broadway shows were dark on Mondays, the diner was mostly empty - except for when the meth heads came cruising, which happened at least once a month. “I _hate_ graveyard. Especially since I have a full load of classes on Mondays so I’m always exhausted anyway.”

“Well, I don’t have school on Mondays or Tuesdays so I’ll switch with you if you want,” Blaine replied, stepping closer and balancing the buckets in one hand so he could flip the schedule to the next page and find his own name. 

“Uh, no, I don’t-- I don’t think you’d be allowed.” Blaine looked confused, so Kurt explained. “Graveyard can be sort of crazy sometimes? Not busy, just supremely weird people coming in. Gunther doesn’t like to have new people do them. They’re not really ready.” This was true, but Kurt might have been exaggerating a little... old wounds resurfacing. Blaine’s neverending _niceness_ and bewildering ability to get whatever he wanted had already helped him to become one of the most popular and well-liked employees, and it irked Kurt.

But Blaine just laughed. “Oh, I don’t think it’ll be a problem. I’ll talk to Gunther right now.” He patted Kurt’s arm and smiled warmly at him, actually tipping him a quick wink before heading out into the seating area.

Irritated, Kurt finished tying on his apron with a particularly vicious snap of straps. Blaine was probably right, of course. Gunther _adored_ him.

And he would find out soon just how much.

 

“Are you serious?! Blaine, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you, baby bro!”

Curiosity piqued, Kurt paused the TV - Santana hissed next to him and tried to grab the remote, but he held it out of her reach - and watched Rachel closely. It was a rare day off for all three of them and they’d been marathoning _Rich Kids of Beverly Hills_ , but Rachel had wandered off to take Blaine’s phone call a few minutes ago.

She noticed him staring and told Blaine to hold on, then grinned at Kurt excitedly. “Guess who’s going to be playing the piano for requests and karaoke on Friday and Saturday nights?” she squealed, jabbing her finger at her phone to indicate the answer. 

Of course.

Kurt and Santana shared a deeply agitated look. She stood up, ignoring the fact that Rachel had returned to her own conversation, and said, “Hang on a minute. Not only does Baby Gay not have to deal with asshole customers on the two busiest nights of the week, but he also still gets to work _and_ get tips?” Rachel was either not hearing her or pretending not to, continuing to blather into the phone, and Kurt had crossed his arms and was glaring at the paused television screen, his jaw set. “Hummel, are you getting this?” Santana went on, nudging his knee with her leg.

“Oh, I’m getting it,” he answered, seething. He’d just started to warm up to Blaine somewhat after he had successfully been allowed to take Kurt’s graveyard shift earlier in the week, and, well, whatever, Blaine’s charm was wearing him down. Now, though? Those walls slammed right back up.

“Rachel, get off the damn phone!” Santana almost yelled. Rachel whirled toward them, looking hurt, and Kurt rubbed his temples. He should have known it could only be a nice, quiet day for so long. “Better yet, give it to me,” Santana added, quickly crossing the room and grabbing the phone right out of her hand.

Kurt covered his face with his hands. Maybe he could make an escape before--

“What’s _her_ problem?” Rachel said dramatically, flopping onto the sofa next to him.

Kurt took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice even. “I think she’s a little annoyed that Blaine’s been here for less than a month and is already getting special treatment. Just like in high school.”

“What?” Rachel sounded genuinely perplexed. “No he’s not, he’s... I mean, he had to _audition_ for Gunther and everything--”

“Shut _up._ ” The word “audition” had grated on Kurt’s nerves even more, reminding him of the fact that while he’d flunked his initial audition to NYADA, Blaine had sailed right through on his first try. 

“Kurt!” She started to go on, either to berate him or try to make him feel bad, Kurt wasn’t sure which it would be, but she was distracted by Santana, who was stalking around the kitchen space and now cursing at Blaine in Spanish. It was sort of hilarious, except it totally wasn’t. “Santana, give me that phone!”

Before the two of them could engage in an actual wrestling match over control of the phone, Kurt leaped up and managed to take it. He raced into the hallway with it, leaving the girls to their own devices. “Hi, Blaine? It’s Kurt. Sorry about that.”

“What is going on over there?” He didn’t even sound that ruffled, _damn_ him.

“Okay, look... Santana and Rachel are almost always on the verge of a major catfight, in case you weren’t aware--”

“I wasn’t.”

“--and Santana’s been pissed at Gunther for weeks over something or other, I don’t even know if _she_ knows what anymore, and unfortunately she’s taking her frustrations out on you.”

“Yeah, I know she’s mad that I got the piano gig but I couldn’t tell why. I mean, she doesn’t even _play,_ does she?”

Kurt sighed. This poor sweet kid. “No, it’s not that. She’s just... okay, she’s sort of been in this competition with Rachel ever since we all moved here. She booked a commercial a few months ago and she gloated about it since Rachel hasn’t landed any acting jobs yet, but then it backfired because it was for a yeast infection medication so she got made fun of everywhere she went...”

“Poor Santana, that’s terrible.” God, he actually sounded sincere. The ice around Kurt’s heart melted a little bit more.

“Yeah, and she’s constantly fighting with her girlfriend, and to be perfectly honest I don’t think Sam being around is doing her much good because there’s history there, and now this thing with you, it’s just all sort of piling up. I’m sorry.” And he was, to his own surprise. 

“Well, will you tell her I’m sorry, too?”

Kurt frowned. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Blaine.”

“Just do it, please?”

“Okay.” Blaine’s tone had left no room for argument. “Do you want me to see if they’ve stopped fighting so you can talk to Rachel again?”

“Actually, hang on, I wanted to ask you about something.” Kurt paused with his hand on the door handle, intrigued. “You said she has ‘history with Sam,’ what’s that about?”

“Aren’t you and Sam, like, best friends? I thought you knew.”

“I know some of it, but obviously not everything.”

Kurt took a deep breath, smiling without realizing it. “Okay, before Santana came out, they dated...” He launched into the story of the Santana/Sam/Brittany triangle, and Blaine proved to be a very good audience, gasping and laughing in all the right places, and before long Kurt was laughing right along with him. “It was _such_ a mess, oh my God. Seriously, be glad you weren’t around in the old days. The _drama._ I mean, do you even know about Quinn and Puck’s baby?”

_”What?!”_

_”Yes.”_ And then Kurt was off and running into that story, completely oblivious to the silence in the loft on the other side of the door now, even forgetting that he was talking on Rachel’s phone instead of his own.

He regaled Blaine with a few more tales, swimming in nostalgia and comfortably seated back on the sofa after a little while (both of the girls were sulking in silence in their own corners of the loft). In the back of his mind, he was astonished with himself for holding a conversation with Blaine that was both this long and this relaxed. He was just so easy to talk to.

“Hey, listen. I wanted to ask you a favor,” Blaine said during a small lull. “I know you’re working next Friday night; I already checked the schedule. That’ll be my first night on piano, and I was hoping you’d help me with the first song.”

Quite startled, Kurt froze for a few seconds and then said, cautiously, “Go on.”

“Do you know ‘Fuckin’ Perfect’ by Pink?”

“Yes?”

“I was thinking it would work really well as a duet. You’ve got such a great voice, and I was wondering if you’d like to sing it with me? We’d do the clean version, obviously.”

Kurt was _stunned._ “I--” It came out as a croak, and he quickly cleared his throat, his head spinning. “Yeah, I’d... I’d love to, sure.”

“Great! Oh, Kurt, thank you. I was sort of freaking out over what to do first. I was like ‘should I do pop, or Broadway, or what?’ I mean, I know it’s technically a Broadway diner and everything, but people do plenty of other stuff. Great American Songbook and all that.” He was babbling and Kurt had to admit it was sort of adorable. “Anyway! Okay, great. I guess we should rehearse at some point.”

“Yeah, I’ll take a look at my schedule - like, for everything, not just work - and I’ll text you tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. Thank you again.”

“Sure. Let me, um... let me give you back to Rachel, we’ve been talking for a long time...” He walked toward her bedroom area as he spoke, peeking through the drawn curtain. “Oh, nevermind, she’s taking a nap.”

“I’ll just text her, it’s okay.”

“Okay.” Kurt breathed out deeply, wondering how to end the conversation now, or if he even really wanted to end it. They spoke over each other: “Well, I’ll let you go--”

“It was really nice to talk to y--”

Then they both laughed lightly, and Blaine said, “It was, though. It was really nice. We’ll talk later?”

“Later,” Kurt replied, and hung up with a smile. _Weird._

He started to place Rachel’s phone on her nightstand, but then noticed that he’d talked to Blaine so long that the battery had dropped below 20%, so he plugged it into the charger in the living room instead. 

Then, deciding to just go ahead and admit defeat, he found his own phone and sent a text message to Rachel’s.

_Talked to Blaine for at least 30 min. You can go ahead and say ‘I told you so’._

 

What he had with Adam was... undefinable. They’d been hanging out on and off for several months and had been on a few (what Kurt termed as) dates, but it had never gotten serious. They’d never even kissed. He was nice and they got along well and had a lot in common, but there was no spark, really. And it didn’t even bother Kurt enough to trouble him, it was just sort of a _thing._

This was why he had no idea whether or not he should invite Adam to the diner to see him sing with Blaine that coming Friday. If they had been actual boyfriends then of course he would; he’d want someone there to cheer him on and tell him afterward that he’d done well. But given their current situation, Adam would most likely give him an honest critique, and Kurt wasn’t really sure if he’d want to hear that. 

He was still wrestling with it on Thursday, and was actually a little distracted at his and Blaine’s rehearsal - this was their second, and wasn’t really needed, they were just both perfectionists and had the time and opportunity to get together at Blaine and Sam’s apartment, so they did. 

It became clear that he wasn’t hiding it well when Blaine finished playing and immediately asked if something was up. “You’re not nervous, are you? It’s going to be great, don’t worry,” he added soothingly, and Kurt had to smile at him in gratitude.

“No, it’s just...” He sighed, and sat down heavily on the piano bench beside Blaine. “I’ve kind of been seeing this guy for a while, and I don’t know if I should ask him to come tomorrow or not.”

He might have imagined it, but he thought Blaine went a bit stiff, and he started to apologize but then Blaine spoke. “You sing at work all the time, and you don’t ask him to come then, do you?”

Kurt shook his head. “This is sort of different though. I don’t know, I can’t explain it.” He absentmindedly tapped at a few piano keys, waiting for Blaine to respond. When he didn’t, Kurt nudged him. “Give me advice.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” Blaine asked teasingly, and nudged him right back. “I think, if you’re worried about it, which you clearly are, then you shouldn’t ask him. You said ‘kind of seeing,’ so it’s not a serious thing, I take it?”

“Not really. It’s weird.” He didn’t feel like elaborating. “You’re right. The girls will be there, and Sam, and some of our other friends, and that’s plenty. And no,” he added, giving Blaine a small, sly smile. “I’m not _nervous._ I’m going to sweep the floor with you.”

Blaine burst out laughing. “I didn’t realize it was a competition! I thought we were _collaborating_.”

“We are! But I do feel the need to prove myself a little, I won’t lie. Mr. Only Needed One NYADA Audition over here and everything.”

Blaine’s expression sobered at once. “I’ve never understood how that happened to you. We were all there watching - it was incredible.”

Kurt shrugged. “It’s done. I’m there now, and I’m doing okay.” He smiled bravely at Blaine and then nodded at the piano. “Let’s go through it one more time.”

 

In the end, he was very glad he _hadn’t_ invited Adam.

Over the years, Kurt had sung more duets, trios, and full group numbers than he could count, but none of them had ever left him feeling so... the only word he could think of was _transported._ Singing with Blaine in front of dozens of people, having _fun_ with him and flirting and getting a couple of outright eyefucks from Blaine - nothing could have prepared him for it. 

He was exhilarated and breathless as he stepped off the stage, his feet hardly seeming to touch the floor. He made a beeline for the server’s station in the corner, desperately needing water to cool himself down, and gulped down half a glass before going back for more, gasping slightly.

Several people, customers and friends alike, called out praise to him, and he acknowledged them by smiling and raising his glass, but his mind was whirling. Something had happened up there, something that had nothing to do with the actual performance. Blaine had... Kurt didn’t know what to call it. For almost the entire song it had seemed as if Blaine wasn’t singing _with_ Kurt, but _to_ him. 

It wasn’t just all the eye contact and the bright, somehow supplicating smiles. Kurt could swear that Blaine had been inserting his name into the lyrics, without actually saying it out loud. 

_You are perfect to me._

He had to be making all this up, right? Blaine was this nice to _everybody._ He recalled a line from a movie he’d heard once, something about a person making you feel as if the sun shone down on you when they were around - that was Blaine to a T. Surely, if Rachel or Sam or even Santana got up there to do a duet with him, he’d make them feel exactly the same way.

Right?

As she so often did, Rachel sent all of his thoughts skittering when she raced over and flung her arms around his neck, shrieking and laughing about how great he’d been. “You _both_ were! Haven’t I been telling you forever that you guys would be an amazing team? Haven’t I?!”

Kurt tried to smile, but his heart was still racing. Had this been any other situation, he would have immediately pulled her into the back and talked to her about what he was feeling, but he just couldn’t this time. She was his best friend, but Blaine was her _brother._

“Encore, encore!” She started to cup her hands around her mouth, clearly ready to try and get a chant going throughout the diner, but Kurt was too quick for her, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her arm down.

“We didn’t prepare anything else,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s Blaine’s night. Just let him do the rest of what he has planned.”

She pouted a little, but nodded. Then she hugged him again and ran off to take care of her tables, and Kurt got another glass of water. He had two tables of his own, but hopefully they’d understand and give him another minute or two.

He didn’t have a chance to speak to Blaine until nearly an hour later. He had stepped outside behind the kitchen for some air, glad to be feeling mostly back to normal again, when the back door opened and Blaine stuck his head out. “Hey! I was looking for you.”

He was smiling widely and his eyes were bright, and in spite of his earlier whirlwind of emotions Kurt just had to grin back at him. “You’re a hit!”

Blaine laughed, ducking his head a little as he walked toward Kurt. “It’s going pretty great, I think, yeah.”

“It’s going better than that. I even saw Santana smiling and clapping along with the crowd. That is high praise indeed, good sir.”

Blaine chuckled again, and when he looked back up at Kurt, his self-deprecating smile stayed for another second or two before it was replaced with the same sunny one from before. “You were so awesome, seriously. It wouldn’t be going half as well now if it hadn’t started out on such a high note, so thank you for that.”

Kurt wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit him or hug him. “It was really fun,” he replied, somewhat lamely, and tried to make up for his tone by giving Blaine another grin. “How’s your tip jar? How many times have you had to empty it?”

This just made Blaine laugh again, and Kurt felt the tiniest twinge of annoyance when he realized he wasn’t going to get a straight answer. But it was quickly swept aside when Blaine immediately asked if he had something in his repertoire for them to do tomorrow night. Flattered, Kurt said, “Oh, I’m not working tomorrow... we could do something next weekend, though?”

Blaine beamed at him and nodded. “Absolutely.”

 

Their duet of “Downtown” the following Saturday was another rousing success, and thankfully didn’t leave Kurt feeling quite so rocked. He chose instead to focus on how fantastic it was to be applauded, and on Gunther’s surprisingly enthusiastic reaction - which made him sure the manager wouldn’t mind their singing together becoming a regular occurrence. 

He didn’t even mind when Rachel - inevitably - decided to capitalize on the situation by performing a couple of duets with Blaine herself, or when Sam and even Santana hopped on the train the week after that. He didn’t mind because, while all of them were great with Blaine, no duet was received nearly as well as the two of them. After a month, he was pretty sure they actually had a few groupies.

Their friendship, of course, flourished as well. They just had so much _fun,_ choosing songs and playing around during rehearsals and _laughing,_ so much laughing that Kurt’s cheeks sometimes hurt for hours afterward. He found himself blowing Adam off now and then to rehearse with or simply hang out with Blaine, and tried not to question what that meant. 

He still thought Blaine was kind of a huge dork, though. But damn, he was a cute dork. 

And yeah, it did still bother him a little that Blaine seemed nearly untouchable by misfortune. But the more he got to know Blaine, and the warmer that sunshine made him feel, the less envy he felt. 

 

One Friday evening, the only thing keeping Kurt from just up and quitting right there on the spot was Blaine’s playing in the background. They had a new hostess who _did not understand_ how to rotate sections; he’d been triple-sat twice and wanted to throttle somebody. Half of his customers were jerks, the kitchen had been backed up for hours, and he was just _done._

But when Blaine finished a rather lovely version of “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” and some half-drunk asshole actually dared to heckle him, Kurt _lost_ it.

“Hey! None of that, or I’ll kick you out of here myself,” he said loudly, pointing directly at the guy so there could be no mistake. 

Most of the diner’s patrons stopped talking to stare at him, and the sudden hush made his heart pound harder than the adrenalin rush of calling the guy out. He darted his eyes up to Blaine at the piano for a quick second - seeing his expression of surprise and hurt directed entirely at the dude who’d heckled, not at Kurt, told Kurt he’d done the right thing.

“He’s butcherin’ Elton,” Jerkface said, half-slurring his words. This annoyed Kurt on a whole other level since the diner didn’t serve alcohol, which meant he'd come in like that. 

“Why don’t you get up there and sing some Elton properly, then?” he challenged, and several customers snorted with laughter. “Blaine!” he called, the corners of his mouth twitching with a smile. “What you got?”

Blaine was looking at him with such gratitude that Kurt could hardly keep from grinning. “‘Tiny Dancer’?” he replied, glancing between Kurt and his offender.

“ _Hell_ yeah,” the heckler said, standing so quickly that he swayed a little, and lurched toward the stage. Blaine shared a bemused look with Kurt before quickly cueing up the karaoke machine.

It surprised no one in the place that even having the lyrics right there for him to read did the guy very little good, and Blaine had to join in to help him out halfway through the first verse. Kurt was a little afraid he’d get taunted again, but the guy actually seemed thankful, leaning on the microphone stand with his head turned toward Blaine. After a few more lines, it was clear they were singing _together,_ and it was such a perfectly movie-magic moment that it would not have shocked Kurt in the least if the entire restaurant had joined in on the chorus. 

When they were done, the dude actually walked over to Blaine to give him a high five, and they were both grinning, old friends by now. Blaine said into his microphone, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you could all please keep an eye on my buddy here as he makes his way back to his table... don’t want any accidents... okay, we’re safe. Nice job, sir.”

“Do the one from ‘The Lion King’ now!” the heckler hollered, which got a good laugh.

“You are quite the Elton fan, aren’t you?” Blaine asked, still smiling. “Okay, we’ll do that one just for you...”

 

Blaine stopped playing at midnight, and although Kurt’s shift had ended at 11, he’d taken a little longer than necessary to complete his sidework and then sat down in a corner booth with a grilled cheese, just so he could be there when Blaine was done. As he expected, Blaine came right to him as soon as he’d left the stage, smiling tiredly. 

“That was awesome earlier,” he said softly, his voice a little scratchy. “Thank you.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows as he sipped from his straw, smiling around it, then gestured for Blaine to sit across from him if he wanted. He slid into the booth with a content sigh and stole a French fry from Kurt’s plate. “I’m just sad nobody else was here to see it,” he said, and took another fry.

“I’m sure if Santana had been working she would have done the same thing I did,” Kurt said.

“Oh, I kind of doubt that.” Kurt clicked his tongue, but Blaine continued. “No, I’m serious. I don’t even think _Rachel_ would have done it. Can I have another one? Sorry, I’m so hungry, I should just order something...”

Kurt waved a hand and pushed his plate closer to the center of the table. “I guess it just set my universe off-kilter to see Blaine Anderson not completely adored and praised,” he said, trying to sound as light as possible.

Blaine wasn’t fooled for a second, though. Frowning slightly, he stared hard at Kurt. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. Don’t sit there and try to tell me you don’t know how lucky you are. _Everybody_ loves you.” Kurt was smiling, but his heart was racing, wondering just how wise it was to bring this up right now. It was too late to stop, though. “In high school, too. Nothing ever touched you. You got solos, and nobody tried to shove you into a locker because you’re gay, and--”

“Hold on, hold on. You-- Kurt, you _do_ know that McKinley was my _third_ high school, right?”

Kurt stared at him blankly.

Sighing, Blaine leaned closer to him over the table. “For the first semester of my freshman year, I went to another public school. My parents didn’t want me to, they wanted me to go to Dalton like my dad and my brother had, but I didn’t want to turn out like them, so I begged, and they finally let me. And it was the biggest mistake I’d ever made.” He laughed ruefully, glancing away from Kurt and swallowing hard. “I was bullied and shoved around, all kinds of shit. The same sort of thing you went through, from what Rachel’s told me.” Their eyes met again, and this time Blaine held the contact. “And I couldn’t take it. So, I went to Dalton, just like my dad wanted. And it was... paradise. It really was.”

Kurt’s mouth was dry, but he couldn’t make his hand move toward his glass. “I’m sorry, I never knew,” he said quietly. “I wish you’d told me, I mean...” Everything he’d thought about Blaine in high school, everything right up until just a few weeks ago - it all could have been _so_ different. “We could have been friends back then, we could have... _shared_ things.”

Blaine leaned back again with a sigh, staring at the plate between them. “It would have felt like I was trying to ingratiate myself. You were busy, you had college stuff and you had a boyfriend... it was better to just stay out of your way.”

“Well, we should make up for it now,” Kurt said firmly.

“I was hoping we could, yeah. We’ve gotten to be friends and I was planning on telling you all this at some point soon.”

Touched, Kurt leaned closer and asked, “Is that what the duets were about?”

Blaine shrugged, then nodded. “Partly. I really do think you’re an amazing singer, so it was mostly that, but yes.”

How could Kurt have _ever_ disliked him? He felt so stupid now. “Sunday, you and me, going to the park. Or to a museum, or flea marketing, or _something_ fun. Okay?”

The loveliest smile came to Blaine’s face then, so sweet and warm that Kurt had to bite his lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound. “Deal,” Blaine replied, and popped another fry into his mouth.

 

Blaine’s revelation strengthened their friendship beyond Kurt’s expectations. Very quickly, he was spending more time with Blaine than with anyone else and loving every moment of it. And _everyone_ noticed.

Regulars at the diner began to drop hints to Kurt that they’d like to see him and Blaine sing more often, since they were “such a great fit,” as a table of cheeky little old ladies put it. Kurt could only smile and thank them, his face flushing as he walked away. Truthfully, he would love to ask Blaine if the two of them could do a whole revue one night, but he couldn’t quite muster up the courage.

They did get more creative with their duets, however. When Kurt suggested “Sue Me” from _Guys and Dolls,_ complete with the dialogue and actions, Blaine almost fell over laughing, nodding so hard Kurt was worried he’d get dizzy. During the performance, Kurt hammed it up to his heart’s content, sobbing loudly and hiccupping as Adelaide, and Blaine could hardly get through his own lines without cracking up. Tips went through the roof - for everyone who worked the shift, not just Kurt and Blaine - and the following night, Kurt came in on his day off just to perform it again.

After that, they tackled “Take Me or Leave Me” from _Rent,_ much to Rachel’s dismay since she and Mercedes had done it in glee club, but neither Kurt nor Blaine cared, and then, just for a change, a double feature of “I Got You Babe” and “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”. Blaine offered “A Little Priest” from _Sweeney Todd,_ but neither of them would back down from wanting to sing Mrs. Lovett’s part, so they scrapped the idea.

When Blaine told him that customers were asking right when they came in if the two of them would be singing that night and some actually _left_ if the answer was no, Kurt cackled with laughter and then went straight to Gunther to request a dinner shift every Friday and Saturday for the foreseeable future.

And it wasn’t just customers. Santana took to humming “Let’s Get It On” whenever she saw Kurt, at home or at work, and wouldn’t stop no matter how hard he glared at her. One afternoon when Kurt and Sam were both working, Sam plopped down at the booth where Kurt was rolling silverware and asked him point-blank when the hell he was going to ask Blaine out, and Kurt was too stunned to even answer. “Do it soon or I’ll kick your ass, I swear,” Sam told him solemnly, and then ruined his tough-guy act by holding out his fist for Kurt to bump.

He _wanted_ to ask Blaine out, of course he did. He just had no idea how - and he didn’t want to risk their friendship for anything, no matter how much he liked him. Because he _did_ like Blaine, there was no denying it anymore. He’d known it for weeks. Everything was just so simple and easy between them now, though... did he dare?

The other issue was Rachel. She hadn’t been around much for the past few weeks because she’d gotten a small role in an Off-Broadway production of _Threepenny Opera,_ and thus had virtually no idea about what had been going on between the two of them. Kurt didn’t think she’d be upset, but he wasn’t entirely sure. She’d always rooted for them to be friends, of course, and back in high school Kurt had the impression she wouldn’t have minded them dating, but now, he just didn’t know.

On the Saturday after Sam’s declaration, Kurt stood by the server’s station near the kitchen, arms folded, his head leaning on the wall, gazing up at Blaine onstage, who was singing a beautiful version of “God Only Knows” by The Beach Boys. He was directly in Blaine’s line of sight, and when Blaine noticed him and smiled, Kurt smiled back with a small sigh of longing.

Blaine kept his eyes on him for the rest of the song, and this time, Kurt was absolutely certain that he was being sung to. _Serenaded._

 _Oh, screw it,_ he thought. Screw the risk, and screw what Rachel might say. You only lived once.

 

He made himself wait two more days, and on Monday evening, he sent Blaine a text.

_Girls aren’t here and I’m bored. Come over?_

He already knew Blaine wasn’t working that night, and just hoped he wasn’t busy. The ninety seconds between his own text and Blaine’s response were the longest of his life.

_Be right over! :)_

Keeping a clear head was key here, Kurt knew, but when Blaine spotted the bottle of vodka in the freezer while he was getting ice for his water, _screw it_ came to mind once more. They mixed it with some of Rachel’s organic cranberry juice, and after two hours and two and a half glasses each, they were sprawled on the floor by the sofa, cackling like crazy over a scrapbook from Kurt’s sophomore year.

“Puck’s _hairrrrr,_ ” Blaine moaned, pointing at a picture, or trying to. “Who told him that was a good idea?!”

“I have no idea,” Kurt said, giggling as he turned the page without waiting for Blaine to move his hand. “Aw, look at Brit and Santa... Santana, I mean.” Blaine leaned his head on Kurt’s shoulder and let out a small cooing sound as he gazed at the photo. “They loved each other so much. It’s so sad now.”

“They’ll get back together one day. I know these things.”

“Oh yeah? How?” Kurt rolled his shoulder up, wanting to look Blaine in the eye. “Are you all-seeing, all-powerful?”

“No, just... love. You know, love finds a way.” Blaine hummed softly and gave him a little smile, then looked back down at the scrapbook. “Aww, Tay-Tay. She was so _cute._ All goth-y. I _miss_ her. Let’s call her!” He suddenly rolled onto his back and started pawing at his pants pocket, clearly going for his phone, but Kurt reached over to stop him.

“Not now! You’re _drunk!_ ”

“Excuse you, I am _tipsy._ And that’s the best time.”

Kurt giggled again, but frowned as soon as Blaine went for his phone again. “No, hang on. Hang on a minute. I wanna ask you something.”

Blaine ceased moving at once and stared at him, stared right into his eyes, his own all huge and shiny and so _pretty,_ and Kurt stifled a whimper. “I mean I wanna... I wanna do something. Okay?” Blaine nodded, blinking slowly, and when his eyes were just shut, Kurt didn’t stop to think, just leaned in and kissed him - off-center and sloppy, but he did it.

“Omigod,” Blaine mumbled against his lips, and Kurt instantly moved back, his cheeks already burning. “Kurt, are you-- did y--”

“Shut up, oh God, shut up.”

“Hey, no, I-- I’m-- I _want_ you to, come here.”

Cautiously, Kurt looked up at him, and saw that he was smiling. Dazed and flushed just as red as Kurt himself was, but smiling. “ _You_ come here,” Kurt whispered, needing him to want it just as much as he did.

And oh, it was _so_ clear to Kurt that he did - the way he cupped Kurt’s jaw, tilting his head back just so while pulling him closer at the same time, the way he moaned just loud enough for Kurt to hear, the way the corners of his lips were turned up against Kurt’s own... it all spoke so, so clearly.

Kurt wasn’t sure exactly when or how they moved onto the sofa, but the next time he could think straight for even a moment, that’s where they were. Blaine was beneath him and Kurt was sprawled right over him, their legs tangled and their fingers laced together, clasped hands hanging over the arm of the sofa, and Blaine smelled _so good,_ and tasted even _better,_ and he was so warm and open and beautiful and Kurt wanted to just sort of _die_.

And he almost _did_ die when Blaine suddenly pulled back, pressing the back of his head into the throw pillow and pushing at Kurt’s shoulders a little, and said, “Wait a minute, aren’t you still sort of dating that guy?”

Groaning in frustration, Kurt shook his head. “I haven’t talked to him in forever. And I told you, we were never really dating. I’ve never even kissed him, never wanted to. I’ve wanted to kiss _you_ for weeks though, so just kiss me.”

He caught a flash of Blaine’s grin before their lips met again, deeper and rougher this time, more insistent, _amazing._ Kurt _really_ needed to know where Blaine had learned to kiss, and who from, because he wanted to send them a giant fruit basket or something.

And God, it had been _so long_ since he’d been kissed.

This was so much more than just kissing, though. This was nipping and nibbling and caressing, sighs and soft little sounds that were very nearly music, this was hands and tongues and necks and skin, this was _passion._ It wasn’t the alcohol, and it wasn’t the heat of the moment. It was absolutely, completely _Blaine._

Kurt’s shirt was rucked up and Blaine’s was half-unbuttoned so Kurt could lick across his collarbones, time utterly forgotten, and then of course it happened - Kurt’s phone rattling on the coffee table with a text. Whining, he groped for it, wanting to smash it on the fucking floor, but habit made him lift his head to read the message. Panting, he said, “It’s Sam. He wants to know if you’re here, says you’re not answering his texts.”

“Fuck,” Blaine mumbled. Kurt reluctantly sat up so Blaine could get his phone out of his pocket. “I had it on silent. He sent like five messages.” He met Kurt’s eyes, deeply apologetic. “I’m sorry, I should--”

“No, it’s okay,” Kurt said, smiling and truly meaning it in spite of his frustration at the interruption. He pressed a quick kiss to Blaine’s mouth before moving out of his way, settling onto his back as he watched Blaine drift toward the kitchen, phone to his ear.

“Hey. Sorry, it was on silent. Yeah, we’re just finishing a movie.” Kurt barely smothered a snort; surely Sam would see through that. “Uh-huh. Yeah, I’ll, um...” Blaine looked back at Kurt, his expression so plaintive and lovely. “I’ll leave here in a few. ...Yeah, a little bit, why? I do not sound _drunk,_ shut up.” 

“He’s _tipsy!_ ” Kurt called, smirking at Blaine when he shot a glare at him.

“Huh? Sam, you don’t need to babysit me, I can walk home just fi-- oh, all right. Yeah, I’ll... we’ll just meet halfway, or whenever we-- yeah. Yes, please get dressed. I’ll leave in a few minutes. _Okay._ Bye.” He hung up, sighed heavily, and shuffled over to the sofa, pouting. “He’s worried I’ll fall down or something, so he’s going to start walking and meet me.”

“Aw.” Kurt crawled to the other end of the sofa, lifting up on his knees so his face was level with Blaine’s. “That’s sweet,” he whispered, draping both arms around Blaine’s neck and tilting their foreheads together. Blaine hummed softly and sighed again, reaching up to rub at Kurt’s arms.

“This isn’t gonna be awkward, right?” Blaine asked quietly. “At work? I don’t want it to be, like... a thing.”

Kurt leaned back and studied him for a moment. “I _want_ it to be a thing, though. A real thing.” Suddenly afraid he’d misread the entire situation, he swallowed hard and moved even further away. “If-- I mean, if you...?”

“Are you serious?” Blaine blurted out. “Kurt...” He reached for Kurt, catching hold of both of his hands. “I mean, yeah, I’m kinda drunk and everything but believe me, I absolutely want this.”

Kurt let out a breathless giggle, then bit his lip. “Yeah?”

“ _So_ yeah. Yes.”

They moved close again, drawn together, and God, it was so hard to think, to wrap his mind around this. Blaine stroked his arms and then his cheeks, kissed him very softly, and then Kurt could breathe. “We’ll talk about it. Soon, when we’re sober. You’ll still want it when you’re sober, right?”

Blaine chuckled and nodded, and his face went very serious as he asked, “Wait, will you?”

Kurt threw his head back and laughed, and would have toppled over if Blaine hadn’t been holding him. “You’re _adorable,_ ” he murmured as he came back, and pressed his lips lightly to Blaine’s again.

“No, just tipsy,” Blaine replied, his mouth brushing against Kurt’s as he spoke. “And kind of tipsy on _you._ ”

Kurt whined softly, knowing the minutes were trickling away. “You should go or I’ll make you stay. Text me when you get to Sam?”

“I will.” Blaine held onto Kurt’s elbow lightly to steady him as he stood up from the sofa, and the two of them moved slowly to the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow too, okay? You’ve got school? When do you have a break?”

“Between one and two, but give me a minute to eat lunch.”

“Okay.” Blaine’s hand curved around Kurt’s jaw again, and Kurt couldn’t help laughing a little just before they kissed. Oh, he could get used to this.

“Do you want me to walk you downstairs?"

“No, or I really will never leave.”

Kurt all but pushed him out into the hallway, absolutely not trusting himself any longer that he wouldn’t try to persuade him to stay, and waited until Blaine was on the elevator before sliding the door shut again. He leaned his back against it and covered his face with his hands, grinning so hard that it hurt his cheeks.

He had cleaned up their mess and was in bed when Blaine texted him about ten minutes later: _With Sam. Safe and sound :)_

_Thank you. Good night!_

_Good night, Kurt <3_

He dropped the phone onto his chest with a blissful sigh, and wondered if it was possible for a person to faint with happiness.

 

He’d just taken the last bite of his burrito when his phone rang the next afternoon, and he had to grin, knowing who was calling. Swallowing quickly, he dug out his phone and greeted Blaine with, “Your timing is impeccable.”

Blaine laughed, and the sound actually made Kurt’s heart skip a beat. “I’ve been sitting here staring at the clock, okay. I could hardly wait. Hi.”

“Hi.” Oh, he was back to not quite knowing how to breathe again. “Was Sam a good babysitter?”

“Definitely.”

“Hmm, an _inquisitive_ one, too, maybe?”

Snorting, Blaine said, “Yeahhhh, you could say that. He’s been hounding me to ask you out for weeks.”

“He did the same thing to me! What a jerk.”

“Well, I didn’t give him _all_ the details, don’t worry. I just told him we were... getting there.”

Kurt smiled happily, wanting to hug himself - and he would have if he hadn’t been smack in the middle of campus. “Let’s get there, then.”

“Okay, I’ll start.” He heard Blaine take a deep breath, and he bit his lip, wondering what _that_ could be about. “I’ll be perfectly honest here, okay? I kind of had a crush on you in high school. But I never said anything because, you know, like we talked about that time, you were busy and you had a boyfriend and I was just Rachel’s dumb little brother and you were gorgeous and a senior and all worldly-wise and tough, and I just, I couldn’t. And I know this is going to sound sort of crazy and I hope like hell it isn’t a dealbreaker, but part of the reason why I wanted to work at the diner was because you worked there, and like I’ve told you, I wanted to see if we could become friends and like really _good_ friends and you would notice me and like me and then maybe _this_ would happen and it _is_ and I hope it _still_ is and oh wow please say something.”

Kurt just stood there, slack-jawed, eyes wide. “Since-- since high school?” he repeated, and let out a gasping little laugh. “Next time I see you I’m going to hug you _so hard._ ”

“Really?”

 _”Yes,”_ Kurt said fiercely. “And then maybe punch myself in the face, because why didn’t I ever _see_ you?”

Blaine sighed with obvious relief. “Don’t worry about that. You see me now, don’t you?”

“I want to see you all the time,” Kurt murmured. “I want to see you right now. I could ditch class and come over there?”

“No, no, I have to be at work at four. Don’t do that.”

“I’ll come by after, then. I get out at four-thirty. Sit in your section, have something to eat.”

“I’d love to see you, yeah,” Blaine said softly, and Kurt closed his eyes, smiling.

“And maybe you could come over after your shift? We were interrupted last night, you know.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me, please,” Blaine groaned. “I’m on till 11, which we both know really means midnight. I’ll just want to kiss you all night and then I’d be a zombie for class at nine in the morning. You’d make me flunk out of school.”

“How terrible,” Kurt said teasingly. “We’ll save it till Friday, then.”

“Perfect. You could come here, I can kick Sam out for a while.”

Laughing, Kurt said, “Okay. Wait, though... maybe we should have an actual date first...”

“I thought this _would_ be a date.”

“No, like go out to dinner and everything. A real date.”

Blaine actually giggled, and for several seconds, before managing to say, “We can do that, sure. Uh, how about tomorrow?”

“You’re such a _dork._ Yes, tomorrow. Wait, tomorrow’s Wednesday, right? Okay, yes. Do you want to go somewhere in Manhattan, or...?”

“Doesn’t matter. I just want to go on a date with you.”

“Oh, you will. You _so_ will.” Kurt was already planning possible outfits in his head, giddy with inspiration, so the shift in Blaine’s tone when he spoke next was a little jarring.

“Good, now that that’s out of the way, I have a not-so-nice thing to ask you about.”

“Should I sit down?”

“No, just... okay, I don’t really know what Rachel’s going to say about this.”

Kurt closed his eyes. “I was afraid you were going to say that. I’ve been kind of worried about it, too. It’s one of the reasons I waited so long to make a move.”

“Which of us do you think the news should come from? I’m thinking me.”

“Yeah, I think so too. She’s less likely to scream at you, and it won’t be me looking like a creepy old man trying to feel up her little brother.”

“You’re only a year older than me!”

“Fifteen months, okay.”

“Oh, wow, you _are_ old. I’ve got myself a sugar daddy.”

“Oh my God, you’re an idiot and I really like you a lot and it’s _stupid._ Rachel’s working tonight, I’m pretty sure. Can you talk to her, just get it out of the way?”

“Yeah,” Blaine replied, and then let out a slightly shaky breath. “Now I’m even more glad you’re coming by work, I’ll need some courage.”

“Aw, honey. Don’t worry, I’ll do whatever you need.”

 

Kurt arrived at the diner around 5:15, a good half-hour before the dinner rush would begin. He checked the board by the door to see which tables Blaine had that night, went to the server’s station to get himself a drink, and slid into a booth facing the kitchen. He spotted Blaine after a minute and his heart fluttered, more than he’d expected. Seeing him again... Kurt slumped a little in his seat, smiling to himself. 

He watched Blaine for a few moments, studying him from this new perspective, noticing things he hadn’t taken the chance to before. His ass was _fantastic,_ for example, and he couldn’t believe he’d never fully appreciated it before. His clear charming of everyone he encountered was nothing new, of course, but seeing the difference between the way he reacted to other people and the way he reacted to Kurt when he saw him... _that_ was new. It was nothing short of stunning.

Blaine strolled toward Kurt’s booth wearing the dopiest grin _ever,_ and Kurt beamed right back at him. “Hey, stranger,” he said when he got close enough. “How are you?”

“Awesome,” Kurt replied at once. “Never been better.” Wow, they were dumb.

Blaine glanced around quickly, obviously checking for Gunther or any other manager, and, seeing no one who might fuss at him, slid into the booth across from Kurt. Kurt had to force himself not to grab his hand. As a distraction, he cleared his throat and asked if Rachel was there. Blaine’s expression instantly became anxious. “Yeah,” he said, nodding toward the kitchen. “Her throat hurts, so she’s helping with prep for a little while.”

“Hey,” Kurt said softly, leaning toward him. “Don’t worry, okay? She’s not going to be mad, I’m like 90% sure of it. I was thinking about it during my last class and I really think it’ll be fine.” Blaine didn’t look convinced, so Kurt put both hands under the table and reached for Blaine’s. When he found them, he held on tight, rubbing across the back of one with his thumb. “I promise I’ll do damage control if she’s pissed.”

His touch seemed to soothe Blaine more than his words, and in a few seconds he was smiling again. He started to say something, but then Santana walked past, stopped, and backtracked to stand next to their booth. She studied them closely for a second, then crossed her arms and asked with a sly smile, “Did you two finally do it?”

“Santana!” Kurt hissed, and poor Blaine just looked mortified, actually trying to shrink himself smaller, Kurt thought.

“What? It’s about freaking time, okay? We were about to start a betting pool.”

Kurt groaned, closed his eyes and shook his head. “Just... okay, no, we didn’t _do it,_ but we’re-- something. Okay? Just keep your mouth shut for tonight, Blaine’s going to talk to Rachel later.”

She snorted. “Please, Berry will probably pee herself from happiness. But I’ll stay quiet, fine,” she added, seeing Kurt open his mouth to retort. She gave Blaine an appraising nod and then stalked off, and Kurt sighed deeply. She was _impossible._

“I’ll handle her,” Blaine said, and Kurt arched an eyebrow at him. “What? I can totally handle her, we have an understanding. Trust me. Listen, are you hungry? Want something?” he asked, briefly tightening his hold on Kurt’s hands before letting them go. 

“Yeah, a bacon cheeseburger. No--”

“Ketchup, I know. I’ll go put it in and come back in a few minutes?”

“Please do.”

 

Things got a little busy, so Kurt did some reading for his theatre history class in between watching Blaine work and eating his burger. He watched Blaine’s other tables carefully, trying to find the sweet spot when they would all be satisfied at the same time, and when he saw it, he stood up, caught Blaine’s eye, and jerked his head toward the bathroom. Then he headed for it, discreetly checking over his shoulder to make sure Blaine was following.

As soon as they were both inside, Kurt flipped the lock and crowded Blaine against the door. “I couldn’t help it,” he murmured, dipping his head to kiss the side of Blaine’s neck. Blaine let out a soft moan and placed a hand on either side of Kurt’s waist, letting him continue for a moment before turning his head to catch Kurt’s lips. 

It was slower than it had been the night before, softer and sweeter, more awed than desperate. Kurt knew what Blaine liked now, knew just what to do with his tongue and lips, knew when to push and when to pull back. They didn’t have much time, but they used it very wisely, both of them flushed and bright-eyed when Kurt stepped away from the door, away from Blaine, even though it physically pained him to do it. 

“Wow,” Blaine whispered, the first thing he’d said since they’d come in four minutes ago. “I... yeah, that’ll get me through the night, I think.”

Kurt winked at him, then reached past him to unlock the door. “You go out first,” he said softly, moving his hand from the door to Blaine’s back, sliding it down, down, following the curve of his ass and giving it a gentle squeeze. Blaine sputtered and tried very hard to glare at him, but it just became yet another sweet, silly grin.

 

He was in bed watching a movie on his laptop later that night, sleepy and happy. Blaine had sent him a text a couple of hours earlier saying that he’d talked to Rachel and she’d been perfectly fine with everything, so that hurdle had been crossed. Nothing stood in their way now.

The loft door slid open and he called a hello to Rachel. “Kurt Hummel!” she exclaimed, sounding _angry,_ and even more than usual due to her scratchy throat. He jumped up and jerked his curtain open to see her standing by the sofa, hands on hips and scowling at him. “Get out here. I want to talk to you.”

Badly startled and even a little afraid, he stepped beyond his curtain and moved a foot or so toward her. Had something else happened after Blaine texted? Had she changed her mind? He just looked at her, hoping his expression wasn’t anything close to challenging. 

She continued to glare at him, and then slowly she began to smile. She held out both arms and said, “Come here, sweetie, I’m totally playing. Hug me! It’s a good day!”

Kurt laughed cautiously, still on edge, but then she folded her arms around him and rocked him back and forth, and he knew everything really was okay. “I’m so happy!” She leaned back so they could look at each other, and Kurt saw that she was still beaming. “I’d been waiting and _waiting,_ and I really had to wonder if something had happened because Blaine was awfully chirpy today, even more than usual and _especially_ after you left - yes, I saw you, even if you didn’t see me. And then he told me everything and I was practically jumping up and down, I was so excited.”

She was practically jumping up and down _now._ Her joy was infectious, and Kurt didn’t resist the impulse to hug her again. “I’m really glad you’re okay with it. I mean, I was _pretty_ sure you would be, but Blaine was worried and that’s mostly why I came by tonight, to give him a little boost.”

“Well, whatever you did totally worked. He was like ‘okay Rachel, I have to tell you something and I don’t care if you like it or not, I’m happy as hell and you can’t take that away from me’.” Kurt’s eyebrows shot up. “Right? I said okay, lay it on me, and he said you two were _together_ finally, and oh Kurt, you have to stay together forever and ever and fall in love and get married and have babies, you have to.”

“Holy shit,” Kurt replied, the definition of a deer in headlights. “Okay, first of all, thank you, and... I’ll take the rest under advisement.”

She laughed brightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just... my best friend and my baby brother...” She let out a high-pitched little squeal and grabbed both of Kurt’s hands. “And he said you guys have a _date_ tomorrow night?”

“We do, and another one on Friday after work,” Kurt said, smiling.

“I-- oh, you’ve... you’ve already planned a second date?”

“Well, we’re going over to his place, and...” Kurt trailed off and pressed his lips together, widening his eyes significantly at Rachel, who suddenly understood and tossed up both of her hands.

“That’s-- thank you, that’s all I need. No details necessary.”

“I’d like to hear the details,” came Santana’s voice from her bedroom area, making both Kurt and Rachel jump. 

“Shut up!” they yelled in unison, and retreated to the fire escape to get away from her cackling.

 

Truthfully, Kurt had no idea if the impression he’d given Rachel about his and Blaine’s Friday night were in any way true. Well, he knew there would be making out, of course, and plenty of it, but beyond that, he was clueless. He tried hard all week to keep his expectations low, just in case. 

Their date on Wednesday went extremely well - they both had classes until late afternoon, so they met up at a little Italian place near campus for dinner, then just held hands and walked around, laughing either far too much or just enough, Kurt couldn’t decide. It ended with a very long, very sweet kiss outside Kurt’s apartment building, and Kurt had almost been too happy to fall asleep.

Blaine had classes all day Thursday and Kurt had to work that night, so they didn’t have a chance to prepare a new song for Friday. They did “Perfect” again instead, which Kurt thought was appropriate on several levels at this point in their relationship.

It was good to revert to an old standard of theirs, because both of them were far too excited for their shift to be over to deal with performing something brand-new. Kurt’s tips were sort of awful due to his distraction; he pulled out his phone every ten minutes to check the time, sure the night would never end.

But of course it did at last, and he and Blaine held hands for the entire subway ride home to Bushwick, grinning at each other like utter, utter idiots.

As they climbed the stairs in Blaine’s apartment building, Kurt asked, suddenly anxious, “You’re sure Sam’s out of here?”

“Positive. He’s staying at your place tonight,” Blaine replied, smiling at him over his shoulder. “The two of you switched. I mean--” Blaine stopped, turning to face Kurt on the landing of his floor. “I didn’t want to assume, but I hoped you’d want to stay the night?” He was biting his lip and just looked so _precious_ that Kurt had to lean in to kiss him.

“Why do you think my bag looks fuller than usual?” he asked softly, patting it. “Clothes for tomorrow. And my toothbrush.”

“Good,” Blaine breathed, and kissed him again.

He’d spent plenty of time at Blaine’s apartment, but stepping into it seemed different now. All Kurt could see were the many, many horizontal surfaces they could take advantage of.

Blaine turned the deadbolt behind them as Kurt set down his bag and slipped off his shoes, then turned to face him, letting out a deep breath. 

“So... are you tired?” Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head. “Nope.”

“Hungry?”

“Nope.”

“Do you want to take a shower?”

 _That_ certainly had possibilities, and Kurt couldn’t help smirking a little. But he shook his head again. “Later.” He could tell that Blaine was just playing the gracious host, and fuck, it was cute. He reached for Blaine’s hands and drew him close, pulling him right into his personal space.

“Oh, you want to...” Blaine’s voice faded out as their lips met, tender but so very full of promise. 

They simply stood there for a few moments, allowing their mouths to get reacquainted, leaning into each other’s weight, both of them relishing this blissfully empty apartment and all the time they had to kill in it.

Blaine seemed to be guiding them slowly but surely toward the sofa, and while that would have been very nice, Kurt wanted to skip that step. “Can we go to your room?” he asked softly, his lips brushing against Blaine’s as he spoke, and Blaine let out a small sound of agreement, bracing his hands more firmly against the sides of Kurt’s waist to lead him in that direction without breaking their kiss.

Blaine’s bed was terribly comfortable. Kurt sank onto it on his back, running the tip of his tongue over his lower lip as he watched Blaine take off his shoes, and came close to curling a beckoning finger at him, but Blaine came right along without encouragement. He draped his body half over Kurt’s and fused their lips together again with a soft moan, and God, in that moment Kurt was ready for absolutely _anything_ Blaine wanted to give him.

He pulled Blaine completely on top of him after a few minutes, letting his thighs fall open so Blaine could fit comfortably between them, and the urgency of the sounds both of them were making increased by at least ten points. Blaine dipped his head to kiss Kurt’s neck, whining against his skin, and Kurt kept his eyes closed, stroking Blaine’s back and trying desperately not to press his hips upward. _”Kurt,”_ Blaine whimpered.

“What, sweetheart?” Kurt whispered, laying a hand on Blaine’s cheek so he’d move his head back, wanting to look at him.

“I should tell you, I’ve never--” Blaine swallowed audibly and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hey, neither have I.”

“No, I mean I’ve never done _anything._ ”

Kurt tapped Blaine’s cheek gently with his thumb to get him to open his eyes. “I haven’t either.” Blaine stared at him, lips parted in obvious disbelief. “What’s that look for?”

“I just...” 

He seemed lost for words, so Kurt kissed him instead and then, wanting to reassure him, said, “I’ve never done more than what we’ve done. Just kissing.”

“ _How?_ ”

Laughing, Kurt said, “What, just because I’ve lived in New York for a year?”

“Well, I don’t know, I just can’t believe it.”

“Hmm.” Kurt smiled then, tracing Blaine’s lower lip with the edge of his thumb. “Maybe I was waiting for you.”

Blaine seemed to melt right before his eyes, sighing as he surged forward to kiss him again, and Kurt felt him smiling into it, just like he was. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, until Kurt had moved his mouth to Blaine’s neck, then Blaine asked softly, “So are we... what do you want?”

“Why don’t we just see what happens?” Kurt replied. “If anything is too much, we can stop.” That would probably be much easier said than done, but it was worth a shot.

As if he wanted to prove just how right Kurt’s thought was, Blaine immediately pressed his hips down, causing both of them to cry out. “Maybe _slower?_ ” Kurt said, panting and laughing a little, which made Blaine laugh in turn, and before Kurt knew it they were both snorting like crazy, holding each other tightly, Blaine’s face buried in Kurt’s neck.

They finally calmed down (more kissing helped) and Blaine trailed his lips across Kurt’s cheek, back toward his ear to speak softly into it. “I don’t want to do it that way. I want to see you, touch you.”

Kurt closed his eyes with a low whimper and nodded, already reaching for the hem of Blaine’s shirt to tug it upward. Blaine groaned a little and sat up to unbutton it, and Kurt leaned up onto his elbows, unable to stay that far away from him for even those few seconds.

They could have taken more time, been more ceremonious and and ridiculously _reverent_ about taking off their clothes, but Kurt just knew he would have tried too hard, fumbled so much that he’d break a button or worse. Instead, they just stripped down to their underwear and moved back together as quickly as possible, lying on their sides now, facing each other. Some other time, they’d spend hours exploring every last inch of skin with lips and fingers, worship each other’s bodies and discover every single thing about each other. Some other time, Kurt would circle Blaine’s nipples with the tip of his tongue and nuzzle his face into Blaine’s beautifully soft belly. Not tonight. Tonight, Kurt just _wanted_ him.

They coiled in tight together, their hips tipping back and forth, side to side, as their kisses became more insistent, their sounds louder. Kurt knew the head of his cock was poking out of his waistband now and felt it rubbing skin to skin against Blaine’s, making him moan even louder, and he clutched at Blaine’s back, splaying out his fingers and pulling him as close as he possibly could. 

“Can I watch you?” Blaine gasped, the words half-lost against Kurt’s open mouth, and Kurt nodded without a second thought, reaching between them and into his briefs. The heat of his own flesh startled him enough to look down and make sure it wasn’t actually on fire, and Blaine followed his eyes, his forehead pressed to Kurt’s.

He felt no apprehension at all, no anxiety over another person seeing him do this. Blaine caressed his side gently as Kurt slid his cock through the circle of his own fist, his eyes darting every few seconds to Blaine’s cock, still covered by his underwear, trying to will it free of the fabric. “That’s so hot, you’re so _hot,_ ” Blaine whispered, kissing his cheek frantically over and over, and Kurt could only respond with a groan. He nudged at Blaine’s hand, or tried to, wanting it wrapped around his own, and Blaine got the message after a minute, both of their breathing instantly becoming heavier.

Kurt shut his eyes, allowing Blaine to first match his rhythm and then set his own. Then he slipped his hand out from under Blaine’s, biting his lip to hold back a whimper as Blaine’s palm closed around his dick, and reached for Blaine’s briefs.

It was awkward and messy, both of their arms bent at odd angles as they stroked each other, but Blaine kissed him through it and that made all the difference. It barely took a minute before Blaine was letting out the most _gorgeous_ sounds, his hips stuttering against Kurt’s and then jerking still as he came, and Kurt laughed softly into Blaine’s mouth, coaxing him through it. His own orgasm followed only a few seconds later, although he had no idea how Blaine managed to keep the same pace with his hand - later, he would realize he’d come not so much because of Blaine’s actions, but because of the powerful surge of emotion radiating out of him and into Kurt.

They flopped onto their backs in unison, both sticky and sweaty and panting like mad, but Kurt would not have changed a single thing about the moment. He stared up at the ceiling, chest heaving, and couldn’t help laughing, _laughing,_ rolling back toward Blaine and flinging his arm across Blaine’s body, completely euphoric.

“I _know,_ ” Blaine said, as if responding to something Kurt had actually said out loud, and this cracked both of them up even harder. They kissed through their laughter and tangled their limbs together, pushing thoughts of cleaning up aside for now.

They took care of it eventually, though, and Kurt got his shower - _without_ Blaine, but he added the opposite to the rapidly lengthening list in his head. A while later, they curled up together under the sheets on Blaine’s simply marvelous bed, exhausted but happy, absurdly happy.

Kurt’s last thought before drifting off to sleep was _we’re not leaving this bed tomorrow until the very last second,_ and he kissed Blaine’s cheek with a smile, snuggling even nearer to him.

 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Blaine and I’ll be your entertainment tonight - I promise not to get too loud if you just wanted to come to a nice family place with your nice family. I’ve had a wonderful Saturday, really wonderful, and I hope you have, too. We’ve got some great songs lined up for you tonight, and if you’re a brave sort then please, feel free to come on up and entertain us yourself. 

“I wanted to start tonight off with a quick little story, if I may. One night a few weeks back, a patron of this establishment didn’t care for the way I played a particular song and he let me know it, let everyone in the place know it. It was a little awkward, to tell you the truth. But my friend Kurt over there - yes, I’m sure a lot of you know Kurt, he’ll be up here to sing for you later - Kurt let that fine upstanding citizen know that his commentary was not appreciated, and somehow, _somehow,_ he got the guy up here to sing, and it all worked out in the end. I still don’t know how it happened, he’s got some sort of magic. Anyway... that guy was a really big fan of Elton John, and we did three Elton John songs in a row, just for him. There was one more Sir Elton song that I wanted to sing, to dedicate to my very good friend Kurt as a thank you, but ladies and gentlemen, I just didn’t quite have the nerve that night.

“I do tonight, though. I’d like to play it for Kurt now, not so much as a thank you - well, it’s a thank you, but for a different reason. And it’s also a promise.”

Kurt had been standing stock-still since Blaine had first said his name, staring up at him with an apprehensive smile. They’d spent the entire day together and Blaine hadn’t said a single word about his plans to do this, but well... they _had_ been rather distracted. He had no idea what was coming, although in retrospect, he really should have.

_”It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside  
I’m not one of those who can easily hide...”_

Kurt shook his head, sharing awestruck glances with several customers nearby, and brought his hand to his mouth as he gazed back up at Blaine, his entire body buzzing with adoration.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam pull Santana toward him and begin a loose, graceful waltz, and Kurt was astonished to see that she was smiling. Across the room, Rachel stood on a chair and swayed with her hands clasped to her chest, her eyes brimming with tears as she watched her baby brother sing his heart out.

_”My gift is my song, and this one’s for you.”_

Unable to help himself, he blew Blaine a kiss, and Blaine caught it without skipping a note.

_”And you can tell everybody this is your song.”_

Oh, he _would._


End file.
